The Brightest Light of Sunshine

The day before she goes back home to her husband and son, Sophia eyes me carefully from her spot behind the counter and says, “You look like shit, hon.”

Don’t I know that.

All my focus is on the tablet resting on top of my thighs. The worn leather couch at the front of the shop isn’t the most comfortable place to sit, and this position isn’t optimal to draw, but I tell myself I deserve the discomfort. Apparently, I like kicking myself down when I’m already at my lowest.

“I’m fine.”

My friend doesn’t buy my half-assed response, though. I know it when a moment later I hear a tired sigh and quiet footsteps coming towards me. The couch shifts as she sits, and I don’t need to turn my head to know her burning eyes are on me.

“Tell me what’s up, Cal.”

Instead of acting like the grown-up, thirty-year-old adult that I am, I choose to ignore her and keep drawing in silence. It does nothing to calm the raging storm in my heart. Not while I trace the delicate lines of Gracie’s blonde pigtails nor when I fill in Sammy’s trench coat with a light brown brush. And not when I add a little detective hat to the children’s black Labrador and my soul aches a little more.

It’s been days since I’ve last seen Grace. We’ve texted back and forth in that time, but things aren’t fine.

I know for certain I didn’t imagine the hurt flashing in her eyes, the sheer disappointment, while she told me she understood why we couldn’t be together. And it burns like a motherfucker, this persistent sensation inside of me that screams, howls, and roars that none of this is right.

I wonder, and not for the first time since she left my place, if I’ve made a terrible mistake. One I can’t come back from.

“All right,” Sophia’s voice softens and, with an equal amount of gentleness, she takes my tablet from my hands and puts it away. “You’re family, Cal, and you know I love you as such. So please tell me what’s up because you’re scaring me. You don’t look good, so don’t even bother trying to convince me it’s nothing.”

With a sigh, I turn to her and the concern in her eyes stares right back at me. She’s right—there’s no point in lying. Not to her, not to the woman who’s been reading me like an open book since I was fifteen. So that’s why I finally confess, “It’s about a woman.”

“I figured,” she says. “Is it the one you followed to the bathroom at the restaurant the other day?”

A nod and another sigh later, I finally let the whole story out, “She’s my best friend, but we’re so right together, Soph, it’s insane. We’ve kissed twice and… She’s everything I’ve ever wanted in a partner and in a friend, but…”

“But what? She isn’t ready to take the next step?”

I let out a humorless laugh. “I’m the one who’s not ready, and I told her just that. She said she understands, but… Fuck, Soph, it feels so fucking wrong and I don’t get why. This is what I fucking wanted, isn’t it?”

Her hand finds my back and rubs it in small, comforting circles. “Seems to me like that’s not what you truly wanted, hon.”

“It’s what I have to want.”

Her voice is still firm but gentle when she says, “Tell me why you’re not ready for a relationship. Is it because of your ex?”

Sophia knows all about my last relationship and the dramatic, off-the-rails way it ended, so she doesn’t need to elaborate. “No. I don’t give a fuck about that cheater anymore. It’s more complicated than that.” I blow out a breath and rub my eyes with the heels of my hands. “It’s about Maddie.”

A beat of silence passes, and then, “Ah, I get it now.”

She shifts on the couch, her hand leaving my back only to grip my forearm tightly. “You don’t want a relationship because this friend would become a big part of not only your life, but your sister’s, and you’re worried about the consequences if she leaves one day. You’re worried about how it could affect Maddie. Correct me if I’m wrong.”

Damn her and her innate ability to read a person in three seconds flat. “You’re not.”

“Good. Now that we’ve got that out of the way, let me tell you why you’re making a huge mistake,” her tone hardens, and I instantly recognize the reprimanding voice she used on my mother every time she came by and found her drunk, sprawled out on the couch like the cockroaches under our fridge.

“I understand you want stability for your sister, and I have no doubts you will provide her with just that. I also know she’ll be happy, so happy with you. The problem comes when you sacrifice your happiness in favor of a future that could simply not happen.”

I knew this, but hearing it from her mouth brings me a new sense of awareness. She asks, “How serious are you about her?”

“I’ve never thought about getting married or having babies until I met her, Soph. That’s how serious I am.” Because I want both of those things, with Grace and with her only, and now I feel like that future I imagined for us is being ripped away. And it’s only my fault.

“So, let’s say Maddie ends up living with you and you’re dating this woman… What’s her name, again?” I tell her. “Okay, imagine you’re now living with both Grace and Maddie. Everything works out until it doesn’t, and you guys split up. How do you think it would affect your sister?”

“Grace is her ballet teacher, and she already admires her so much. They get along well, so if we all lived together… My sister would eventually fall in love with her and get attached.” Like I’m doing right now. “She’d feel devastated if Grace left our lives one day.”

“All right. Now imagine this other scenario—your mother gets her shit together and Maddie never moves in with you. You both get to have a normal, healthy family life. Would you date Grace then?”

“Yes.” Hell, I would’ve asked her out ages ago if that was my reality. Only a fool would let such an incredible, kind-spirited, fun, strong woman walk away without a fight.

I guess that makes me a fucking idiot, then.

“Congratulations, you’re dating the woman of your dreams in this hypothetical fairytale we’ve just made up.” She pins me down with one of her stern glares, and that’s how I know I’m in trouble. “But, oh wait, I’m sorry. No, you can’t date her, my bad. Wanna know why?”

I gulp. “Why?”

“Because, Cal, what if you guys have a baby and get a divorce one day? The poor little thing would suffer so much.”

My heartbeat picks up. “What?”

“Yeah, hon, think about it.” Sarcasm rolls off her tongue. “You can’t ever date Grace, or anyone else for that matter, because you’ll want to start a family one day and so will she. But relationships are so unpredictable that your love story might end someday, and then what? What happens to your child?”

I swallow past the lump in my throat, the mere possibility of being the father of Grace’s babies constricting my chest. “Well, um… I… Divorced parents are a thing, and not every kid ends up with irreversible trauma. Trey’s parents are divorced, and he and his brother are fine. Their parents don’t get along, but it hasn’t affected them. Aaron’s parents are divorced, too, I think.”

She arches an unimpressed eyebrow at my little speech. “Sounds to me like the possibility of breaking up when there are children involved isn’t reason enough to justify not being ready for a girlfriend.”

My eyes land on my tablet’s still lit-up screen, Gracie, Sammy and their dog staring right back at me. They’re chanting ‘Idiot! Idiot! Idiot!’ in my head, and that’s when it dawns on me.

It clicks like a light switch turning on, filling the darkness with long-awaited answers.

I’ve been such a short-sighted, stubborn bastard.

Grace and I don’t have to break up. There’s a fifty-fifty chance we won’t, in fact, and fuck me for even considering not giving us a chance purely out of fear. That’s not me. I’ve never been a coward, so why am I acting like one now that something I treasure with all my damn heart is on the line?

It wouldn’t be the end of the world if we split up, Sophia is right, because parents get divorced all the time and it doesn’t have to turn into a nightmare for the kids. Maddie doesn’t have to suffer the consequences if we play our cards right.

Would it hurt to say goodbye to Grace if it came to it one day? It would shatter my fucking soul, I know that.

But it would hurt even more to push her away now when we haven’t even had the chance to become.

My friend must see the realization in my eyes because her features soften. “You understand why this is a mistake now, Cal?” I nod. “Maddie likes Grace, you say? Well then, I don’t think she’ll have any issues with you dating her. She’ll be delighted with the news, I’m sure.”

“Fuck,” I mutter, rubbing my face again. My last headache is still lingering when I get a fresh one. “I haven’t even thought about that. Maddie is my everything, and I don’t want her to feel like… Like I’m replacing her.”

“That’s something you’ll have to speak with her about, but don’t worry too much. Kids are more understanding than we give them credit for, trust me,” she reassures me.

“What if it’s too late now?” My chest burns just thinking about it, our picture-perfect future fading away if Grace doesn’t want us anymore. It would be entirely my fault, and I’ll blame myself for the rest of my days for letting her walk away when she’s mine.

Mine to cherish. Mine to take care of. Mine to love.

Sophia rubs my forearm in the comforting way only a good friend can. “There’s only one way to find out.”

***

“Sammy! Look at me, Sammy!”

I squint my eyes against the bright sun, which isn’t hiding behind the dark clouds anymore. “You’re doing amazing, peanut!”

Maddie gives me the widest of smiles and a thumbs up before going down the slide, only a few feet away from where I’m sitting. The cold afternoon breeze makes the park an almost deserted land, but I prefer it this way.

There are enough children for Maddie to play with and none of those ogling mothers who always flirt with me when they ‘accidentally’ happen to sit in the same bench I do. Sometimes with their husbands right there. Savage.

My last appointment of the day ended a little over an hour ago, and I drove to my mother’s house straight away and brought Maddie here. I guessed she didn’t have any exciting plans for the rest of the day, and I was right.

As I look at her now, though, speed-talking to a little boy and going up the slide again after him, none of that matters anymore. Not my mother, not Pete, not my not-so-dormant fears.

Because my sister smiles, and I breathe a little easier.

“Hey.”

Despite the thick jacket I’m wearing, I shiver at the sound of her voice. I haven’t seen her in almost a week, and I thought I was ready to take her in after all this time, but I’m not. Grace sits next to me on the empty bench. Her hair is up on a high ponytail, and she’s wearing a cream-colored long coat and dark jeans. It’s nothing I haven’t seen her wear before, yet she still takes my breath away.

I’m starting to learn she always does.

“Hey.” I take my eyes off her and bring them back to my sister before I do something impulsive like kissing her again. “How have you been?”

“We’ve been texting non-stop,” she teases. It’s not the first time we haven’t seen each other in days, yet it feels different this time. For me, at least, it does.

“Still. I want to hear it from you.”

She puts her small hands on her pockets. “Good. I got your email with the digital sketches last night.”

“Do you need me to change anything? Or add something else?” I ask, keeping my gaze trained ahead for my own good.

“No, they’re… They’re perfect, Cal. I have more than enough for the book, thank you,” she says with a hint of shyness. Keeping my eyes away from her has never felt so damn hard. She always looks so adorable when she shies away. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about paying you, though. I’m not letting you do this for free.”

I can’t help the small smirk. “Stubborn.”

“Like you’re one to talk.” She nudges my knee with hers. “What did you want to talk about?”

Right. That’s why I texted her earlier. I clear my throat, “I just wanted to see you.” Which isn’t a lie, but it’s a far cry from the real reason I asked her to come to the park in the first place.

“Oh. Well, you’ve seen me now. So, bye,” she jokes, and actually tries to leave. My hand shoots up and when I grab her arm to sit her ass back down, she laughs. “Cut me some slack, Sammy. Can I at least go say hello to Maddie?”

I grunt and she laughs again, leaving my side to go up to my sister and her new friend. The moment she spots Grace, Maddie squeals with happiness and throws herself at her open arms, proceeding to tell her all about the game she’s playing. Grace crouches next to her and listens attentively, asking both kids questions and nodding along with whatever they answer back.

My heart can’t stand it.

For a moment, I forget everything I’ve been worried about for the past few weeks and focus on the only truth that matters—I want Grace in my life, for however long she’ll have me, as my best friend but also as everything else.

As my confidant, as my partner in crime, as my lover. As the sunshine to my stormy heart.

So that’s why, when she comes back to the bench with a smile on her beautiful face and pinkish cheeks from the biting cold, I reach out and grab her by the waist, pressing her against me. I’m still sitting down, and my chest collides with her stomach. Looking up at her, I say, “You sure you want to pay me for those illustrations?” I know she does, and I couldn’t care less if she didn’t, but it would make her feel better if I gave in. So that’s why I do.

She nods, out of breath. “Yeah.”

My grip on her body tightens. “Go on a date with me, then.”

She blinks down at me. The warmth spreading on her cheeks now has nothing to do with the cold. “A… date?”

“You’ll be paying, of course.” I smirk. “A date in exchange for the illustrations. What do you say?”

“You don’t want cash instead?”

“I’d rather be with you.” In every way that counts. “So, is it a yes?”

She pretends to think about it. “What kind of date?”

“Whatever you want, since you’re paying,” I say with a grin.

When she smiles back at me, my insides melt. “Sounds great. If you’re sure.”

I squeeze her waist through her thick coat. “I’m sure,” I tell her with a serious expression.

If there’s something about us, it is that a simple look into each other’s eyes is enough to understand what our vulnerabilities won’t allow us to say out loud. I know she can read between the lines when she says, “Don’t make any plans for Sunday, Sammy. You’re all mine then.”